Love & War
by HakushoRurouni
Summary: Now that Johnny is back in Boston and reunited with Cilla will the war with Britain escalate and force them apart again? R&R!
1. Default Chapter

Ch.1- Dreams and Contemplation

The pain was intense. He wanted to scream, to move away, to just not be in this room. However, he held his tongue, and didn't flinch. Aside from the pain in his hand, he couldn't feel anything. The death of his best friend Rab, the only person, other than Cilla and Rab's relatives, who didn't think twice about what he could do and what he couldn't do with his crippled right hand, was to much to comprehend. About thirty minutes later, after the operation on his hand was complete, Johnny Tremain, a sixteen-year old orphan, lay asleep in a room at the hotel.

Out in the tavern, Dr. Warren, the man who had operated on Johnny's hand, sat with a mug of beer in his. He had finished the operation just a few minutes ago, and was exhausted. Aside from his exhaustion, the doctor was still astonished at how Johnny had handled the operation. Dr. Warren had had two men standing outside the door prepared to jump in when Johnny started thrashing about, and shouting…but he hadn't. The sixteen-year-old was completely emotionless throughout the entire operation, not even flinching. Dr. Warren supposed this was due to the fact that his best friend Rab, had died that same day. The doctor had been determined to do the best job he could on this boy's hand, and he knew that he had done his best. The hand would never be the same. It would be weaker, yes, but it would be just as good as it was prior to the operation.

Dr. Warren sighed, "The poor boy, tomorrow I'll have him taken back to Boston." Although the boy would protest, Warren was convinced that he would go once he knew that there would be no fighting between the British and the Patriots for awhile.

" 'nother round Dr.?" asked the bartender as he walked by, a towel in his hands as he cleaned them.

"No thank you Mr. Smith, I think I'll turn in for tonight."

"I think I'll do likewise, g'night then Dr. Warren."

He was running, there was no sunlight, it was pitch black. Pitch black, with the exception of the unceasing flashes of light from the musket fire. The sounds were deafening. He couldn't hear, couldn't think of anything other than his goal.

_ "I've got to find Cilla!" Johnny thought frantically, sweat pouring down his face. "Where is she!" he screamed to himself._ The tide of the war had changed, the British had advanced with a strong front and had eliminated all threats except the final resistance in Boston, and things weren't looking to good. He was desperately searching for Cilla so that they could flee Boston and get away from the redcoats and the Tories.

But he couldn't find her. She had disappeared. She wasn't at the Lytes' mansion, all Johnny had found there had been the dead body of Miss Bessie, one of the Lytes' black servants and best friend to Cilla. He hoped Cilla was still alive. Finally he turned the final stretch of the road to where the Lamphan's house was. Not even bothering to knock, he barged in, barely beating the bullets that whizzed past his head. The first thing he saw in the house was the bloody body of the replacement silversmith, Mr. Tweedie. Even though he had never liked the man, Johnny knew that he didn't deserve his fate. He ran into the next room. There he saw Madge's dead body, one of the Lamphan girls. There was a bullet hole through her head.

This girl and her siblings had been the only people Johnny had ever considered family, or to be more precise, the sisters, with the exception of Cilla, that he had never had. In the next room, he found Mrs. Lamphan, dead. Johnny thanked the good Lord that at least one of his "sister's" was still alive. Finally, he entered the kitchen, and when he did, what he saw made his heart stop. Cilla Lamphan, struggling to breathe, in tattered clothing, bleeding from a cut on her lip, and a bullet wound in her abdomen.

Dropping his musket, Johnny ran over to Cilla, cradling her fragile form in his arms.

"Cilla, Cil, it's me, it's me Johnny!" he half sobbed half whispered to her. Cilla struggled to shift her head to stare into his eyes.

"J-Johnny!" she gasped, "You've come back!"

Johnny nodded his head vigorously, "Yeah Cil, I'm back. Now come on let's get you out of here." as he started to pick her up, Cilla was overcome with a violent convulsing cough. As she coughed, Johnny saw blood come from her mouth.

"N-no Johnny, i-it's over for me, please get out of here while you still can."

"No, Cilla you're gonna make it, you can't leave me now, not when I've finally realized why I always want to be with you!"

Another violent convulsion, this time the cough wracked her whole body. She was growing paler by the second, Johnny knew she wouldn't make it, but this couldn't be happening, not after he had realized what the feeling that overcame him every time he laid eyes on her.

He had to tell her now, while she could still hear him, "Cil, I need to tell you something." With what was the last of her energy, she focused all her attention on him. "Cilla, ever since this whole ordeal started, you've been there for me. It didn't matter what it happened to be, you were always there to support me. When I burned my hand, you were the only one who didn't shun me, at my trial when I was accused of stealing the cup. You were there. And I just wanted to tell you that I've finally realized why I enjoy your company. Pricilla Lamphan, I…I love you."

As Johnny finished, he suddenly realized that the body he was holding had stopped breathing, and was cold. "Cil?" Johnny sobbed, knowing she couldn't hear him, "Pricilla Lamphan, stop messing around this instant!" Johnny sobbed. He looked at her pale face, and knew that she was no more.

All of a sudden, Johnny heard the door behind him open and then,

"Here! A survivor!" and then the sound of dozens of feet, as the British came into the kitchen, surrounding him.

"**_FIRE!"_**

Johnny sat bolt up right in his bed, and immediately regretted the action. Pain coursed through his newly repaired hand, it felt like it wanted to fall off. Slowly, so as not to agitate it again, Johnny lay back down, trying to slow his rushed breathing.

'That was a weird dream,' he thought a few minutes later, after he had regained control of his circulatory system, 'it was so vivid, I could've sworn it was real.'

At that moment, Dr. Warren burst into the room, panting heavily.

"J-Johnny, the Bri-B, the redcoats are coming! We have to move n….!" Before the doctor had finished his sentence, there was rushed footsteps, and the sound of something crashing. He looked up just in time to see Dr. Warren's head blow up into nothing as ten bullets came into contact with it.

"In here! There's one more, kill him!" Johnny didn't even have time to move as from seemingly out of nowhere, a British solider flew into the room. Raising his gun, there was a loud, **_CRACK!_** as the musket lit a shot the lead ball straight into his head. Then, everything was black.

His eyes opened slowly, if not in weariness, then in fear that if they were opened, he would be killed again. There was sunlight flowing into the room through an open window, from which Johnny could hear the sound of laughter from children in the streets. Cautiously, he lifted his hand, and gently moved his thumb. A moment of pain, and then nothing. He did this again. Pain and nothing. Once more. This time he felt nothing. Feeling that his healing was coming along faster than even he had expected, Johnny allowed his mind to wander to the subject of his dream. Cilla.

He wondered how she was doing, from what he knew, Boston was still under British control, although, thanks to the Minute Men, there were no longer so many of them.

'Lord I hope she's okay, I don't know what I would do if I lost Cil…probably kill myself.'

As he sat there thinking this, Dr. Warren walked in.

"Good morning Johnny, had a good rest?"

Johnny nodded, "Yessir doctor, probably one of the best I've had for awhile." he lied.

"Good, good. Now let me see your hand." Johnny lifted it, placing it in the doctors grasp. "Looks as if the operation went even better than I had hoped," he said, "this should fully heal in about a month or so." Johnny smiled. All he had to do was wait a month? Well it was better than having a crippled hand for the rest of his life.

"Thank you so much Dr. Warren." The doctor shook his head.

"Not at all my dear boy. Now I've arranged for you to be taken back to Boston with one of the families of the Minute Men, so let's round up your belongings and get you ready."

It took all of one minute to get Johnny's meager belongings together, seeing as all he had was his hat, Rab's musket, and his shoes. After this task was completed, Dr. Warren helped Johnny down the steps, and into the tavern, where they ate a hearty breakfast along with the remaining families of the patriots gone off to battle. There was one question that Johnny was dying to ask the doctor.

"Dr. Warren, why can't I just go to battle with the other soldiers?"

Dr. Warren sighed, "Well for one thing Johnny, your hand has to heal before you can truly be able to handle a gun. Second, well this is my opinion, you're to young. You are barely sixteen, and already you served more than your fair share in this war." He put a hand on Johnny's shoulder, "You need to be able to live your life to the fullest while you're still young, plus, I know you're anxious to get back to a certain someone, hmm?" he finished, grinning teasingly at Johnny. Johnny blushed.

"Very well.." turning to the family that would be taking him back to Boston, he said, "whenever you are ready." The mother of the family nodded, helping Johnny with the musket.

At the door, Johnny bid a final farewell to Dr. Warren.

"So long then doctor, and thank you again, for everything." They shook hands.

Dr. Warren looked Johnny in the eye, one last time, and said, "When you despair, remember that all through history, the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible but in the end, they always fall-think of it, always."

With that and a final shake of Johnny's hand, Dr. Warren went back into the lighted tavern. The last thoughts that were running through Johnny's head before he fell asleep in the back of the covered wagon, was of the meaning of Dr. Warren's last words to him. Then he fell asleep to the steady clip-clop of the horse's hooves.


	2. Ch2 Reunited

Disclaimer: Sorry about the missing disclaimer in chapter one. Anyway I don't own Johnny Tremain because if I did there would have been a sequel.

Ch.2- Reunited

It was a long and boring trip from wherever he had been. So long and so boring, that Johnny had actually forgotten where they had left from. He was resting right now, which is what he had done for the entirety of the trip.

Mrs. Sille, who was the mother of the family that she was traveling with, had made him rest in order for his hand to heal properly. Apparently, she had received strict orders from Dr. Warren to have Johnny avoid stressing his hand whenever possible. For Mrs. Sille, stressing his hand meant getting up to get a drink of water when they were stopped at a nearby stream. So she had sent her young daughter, Perdita, Dita for short, over to the stream to fetch him a ladle full of water.

It wasn't that he minded, far from it, it's just that it wasn't him. Usually he was the one helping people with things and he wasn't used to the opposite. Dita was only six years old and she had befriended Johnny within thirty minutes of the ride after he had woke up from his first dreamless sleep in a long time.

To Johnny, Dita was a tomboy. All she wanted to do was the same things that Johnny did. She wanted to hold his musket, she wanted to fight the redcoats. She loved, looked up to, and admired Johnny much like a younger sibling would an older sibling. It was going to be hard going separate ways once they got back to Boston.

At this time Johnny was thinking about Cilla.

'I wonder if she's doing okay. I don't know what she's been up to since the Lyte's left, I hope Mrs. Bessie is taking care of her. And I really hope she's truly gotten over Isannah. Isannah was such a cry baby who always got what she wanted, that's why she always cried. It always worked with anybody except him.

Out of nowhere, something landed on Johnny's stomach that knocked the wind out of him.

"Oooff! What the..oh hey there Dita. What are you doing jumping on top of me huh?" he asked in a playfully angry voice.

"Oh I'm so sorry Johnny, I was flying through the air and saw your stomach and thought 'Oh look! There's Johnny's stomach! I'm gonna land on it and see what happens!'" she responded sarcastically. For a six year old girl, she had a surprising sarcastic intellect.

"Well it would be nice if you would get off my stomach if you don't mind." Johnny said.

"I'll only get off if you tell me a story!" demanded Dita bouncing up and down on his stomach as she said this.

"Alright, alright. Well let's see, which one should I tell?" he asked more to himself than to Dita, who answered anyway.

"Oh! Tell the one about when you fell in love!" she squealed with delight.

"Okay. Here it goes." he stopped to clear his throat in an effort to stall for time. Truth be told he remembered every detail, but he was still embarrassed to talk about it. It wasn't Dita that made him feel like this, it was her mother.

Truth be told, the wagon wasn't exactly big. It was a wonder he hadn't rolled out of it yet. He did have a rather clear voice that could be heard from a good distance away, and about ten feet wasn't really a comfortable distance. He sighed and started anyway.

"When I fell in love I was just ten years old. I fell in love with an angel. And the angel's name is Cilla."

"_**Is** _Cilla?" questioned Dita curiously. "Last time it was 'the angel's name **_was_** Cilla."

"Did I say was last time? Well I meant is, she's still in Boston." Johnny continued.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Sille was trying to concentrate on driving the wagon, while trying to tune out Johnny's story. It was fine if he wanted to tell the story to Dita, she was a child who didn't fully grasp the concept of love. But Mrs. Sille had a funny feeling that Johnny didn't want her to eavesdrop. However, it is human instinct to ignore all thoughts of the mind, and soon Mrs. Sille was soon engulfed in the story of Johnny's love life.

Cilla had just returned from an errand to the market for Mrs. Bessie when she saw the wagon.

It was just pulling in, and she had thought nothing of it until the redcoats had asked the occupants to exit it as it was checked over. There was a slightly pudgy woman who stepped out first, followed by a young man, with short blonde hair and blue eyes carrying a little girl with light brown hair.

She knew it was him. She knew it was Johnny. However she resisted the urge to run to him and throw herself on him and hug him senseless. She had to or she would make one heck of a scene.

Slowly, and with practiced restraint, Cilla followed Johnny and the now retreating family to wherever they were going. She assumed to the family's house to unpack their clothes and other possessions. Almost like a specter, Cilla followed silently.

When they finally got to the house it was a tedious thirty more minutes until Johnny took his leave, telling the family that he would come by to visit often.

As he closed the door, Cilla couldn't take it anymore. All restraint forgotten, she ran towards Johnny with tears flowing down her face.

Needless to say, Johnny was shocked to see a figure flying at him down the dimly lit street on which the Sille family lived. On closer inspection, that is to say three seconds before he was bowled over, Johnny recognized the figure.

(A/N: Since I have no idea what the author originally described Cilla to look like, I'm making up my own description. If you know please tell me how she looks.)

Light blonde hair, similar to his own, beautiful face that, to him at least, looked heavenly. He couldn't see her eyes because they were closed as she ran towards him. Johnny, now fully recovered from the successful operation on his hand, was still unable to avoid the collision.

As the two hit the floor, Cilla opened her teary gray-green eyes and found herself staring into Johnny's loving crystal blue ones.

"Johnny! Johnny you're back! You're back, you're back!" was all she managed to get out as she wrapped her arms around his muscular frame tightly as if afraid that if she let go, he would leave her again.

Then she completely broke down.

"Oh Johnny, I've missed you so much! I was so worried about you! I was scared you were going to die!" she sobbed into his chest.

"Sshh, shh, it's alright Cil, it's alright I'm here." cooed Johnny into her ear softly as he rubbed her back soothingly. "Everything's alright now, I'm her for you."

"Oh Johnny, I thought you had left me, I thought you weren't going to come back!" she whimpered.

Gently and slowly, so as not to startle her, Johnny lifted her chin and made her stare into his eyes.

"Now you listen here Cilla," he said wiping away the tears on her face, "there is nothing in the world that would make me leave you, and regardless of what you may think I would never leave you. Do you know why?" he asked.

Cilla shook her head sniffling slightly.

"It's because I love you Cilla. Do you hear me? I love you Pricilla Lamphan and I'll never leave you, never." whispered Johnny as he wiped away the last of the tears with his once crippled hand.

Cilla looked at him, "Do you r-really love m-me?" she asked almost afraid that he was going to say no.

But he didn't. He nodded his head.

"I love you Pricilla Lamphan, with all my heart and that's never going to change, ever."

Cilla smiled, truly smiled for the first time since Johnny had left. Then she spoke.

"Good. Because I love you Jonathan Lyte Tremain, and I don't care who knows it!" with that she leaned in towards Johnny.

Almost instantaneously, Johnny responded, he leaned toward Cilla until there was hardly any space between them. Then as they were about to close the gap, both spoke in unison,

"I Love You."

And with that they kissed.

A/N: Well there's chapter two! Sorry about the delay with the story, but I've been writing chapters for Palett High lately combined with school, well let's just say I can't wait until Easter or summer.

Anyway R&R! Flames welcome! And if you would be so kind, please read my other story Palett High.


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